Magic Academy (A Fantasy New Adult Romance) (7 page)

Then with casual purpose the elder
human stood, his voice carrying out across the field, magically
amplified. “One more competition for the evening, don’t
you say, Yae’ra?” he addressed one of the other
professors, who was in the process of leaving.

The elf turned his gaze upon the
wizened old human, a glare for him. Something went on between them,
but she couldn’t be sure what. The elf didn’t broadcast
his words back.

“If you don’t care to see
what comes next, then perhaps I’ll take on a new apprentice
myself,” retorted the human wizard, which stiffened the elf’s
spine. Meanwhile she felt a faint buzz of excitement from that demon
soul that inhabited her being. Excitement and something else.

Was he truly rooting for her that hard?

The elven wizard’s voice carried
out then at last: “One more competition for the evening then.
Those two,” he said, and she knew then she would be facing off
against Mae’lin.

The two ushers didn’t give her
time for much, as they grabbed the two of them and pushed them
forward onto the field towards their respective spots.

“Goodluck,” she murmured to
the only friendly face she’d seen all day, and hated that she’d
been pitted against him. The man who had only tried to help her. The
competitions were fierce and caring about others only got in the way.

At least, it did for her.

She’d spent so much time isolated
and putting up walls between herself and others, but his tiny act of
kindness had edged its way under her skin. She licked her lips
thoughtfully and fluttered her eyes, concentrating.

There was no time for compassion.

Mae’lin acted first. The lanky
elf, despite his concern, held nothing back.

With a flourish of his hands, he sent
up a column of water from the basin, that formed a curtain of crystal
liquid. He motioned his hands and the water formed the shape of fish,
crabs, and even some serpentine, dragon-like creature. It was
masterful, and more than she had expected from the low-rung elf.

She couldn’t be outdone though.
With her own elegant display that was beautiful enough to counter any
elf, she sent the flames from the brazier up, creating a dazzling
display of her own.

It far exceeded anything she’d
done in the past. The flames licking at the air, reaching so high
that she wondered if the grand tent itself was in danger! But with
the power of the augmentation crystal her father got her, she not
only wielded the flames bigger and higher, she contorted them into
fanciful shapes.

Great and mighty birds! Phoenixes that
soared through the air. Hawks that dove to the crowds! She amazed
even herself with what she could do with the help of her father’s
crystal!

That amazement almost made her miss
what was happening, however. She saw the glum look on Mae’lin’s
face, and even as her heart skipped a beat she knew he felt sad about
what he was doing.

He shaped the water into a semblance of
a whale, and it chased after the source of her fire, to douse it out.

What could she do against that?!

The warm comfort of Varuj’s
presence became a burning at her heart. She mistook it for pain at
first, pain at her failure. But then he did something curiously
strange: he whispered his counter to her.

She made a sweeping gesture with her
hand and the flames formed into a great dragon that roared –
literally roared! – its fury against the approaching whale. The
two collided, and she watched, amazed, as her beast of pure flame
contested with water and… and was winning!

It was startling to see, and the crowd
around her was holding its breath! Though she was beyond noticing
such things. She had a contest to win despite it all!

Steam formed between the two conjured
giants. Dragon battling whale as flame licked at water, steam rose
and each tangled and destroyed the other.

She willed her creation on, and as the
struggle intensified – her thing of fire miraculously outdoing
a creation of water! – she noticed the burning on her finger as
the crystal ring glowed red-hot, nearly searing her flesh.

The pain made her want to cast it off,
but she couldn’t! Not without forfeiting the competition and
losing it all. So with a final bout of tenacity, she pushed herself
into the spell again and watched as the dragon expanded and with its
mighty jaws doused the last of the great water-whale into steamy
oblivion.

Exultant victory should have taken over
then, but the force of her spell couldn’t be stopped so easily.
The dragon pushed on, and though the pain urged her to cast off the
ring, she saw that its fiery jaws were swooping in on Mae’lin
himself.

She had to do something! It was all
playing out in a split second, but she reigned the thing in just in
time to spare Mae’lin a horrible searing. Although he fell back
into the grass, his clothes were smoking in three places from his
close contact with the fire.

She was breathing hard, the lingering
smoke of her dissipated dragon filling her lungs as she raced to the
basin of water, dousing her finger. The scalding pain slowly dimmed,
but it still felt raw and tender as she ran across to Mae’lin,
trying to help him up.

For all intents and purposes, Mae’lin
looked far better off than her. Only merely stunned by the intensity
of her power. “Wow,” he mouthed to her, looking on her
with great awe. “That was… that was amazing!” he
said, and only then did Firia become aware of the applause that
carried across the field to them, quite impressed by the late display
of such power and technique.

“You were great,” she
smiled to him, but there was a hesitation there. It wasn’t that
she thought she was being a good winner.

She just knew she had an unfair
advantage. Or, well… as fair of advantage as any other. She’d
summoned the demon, after all. It was her cunning that she’d
invited a powerful… ally… into her. It wasn’t as
though she’d bargained with him for that win.

She’d earned it.

Mae’lin stood up with her help
and, smiling, the pair faced the applauding crowd. She even noticed
the old, human mage giving a dignified, but standing ovation.

The booming voice of the elven master
carried out over the fields, however. “The human girl is
disqualified for assaulting a fellow contestant,” came his
stern words. “Gaul’di-mere Academy shall take on the
other impressive young hopeful.”

It all came crashing down then.

She couldn’t even cry. She was
too stunned to do anything but stare ahead, dejected and confused.
Assaulting him?

She blinked and looked to Mae’lin,
pain clear on her face. Pain for herself. She struggled to be happy
for him, for his success, but there was no amount of goodness in her
that could combat the fact that her dreams were snuffed out.

Just like that. In an instant.

The applause had ended, and in the
silence of the hushed crowd, she could hear the familiar, masculine
voice of Varuj in her mind, calling to her. “Plead,” he
urged. “Tell them you’ve got more tricks and can compete
again,” his words forceful, persuasive, holding all of their
charm as he sought to comfort and assure her.

Her hand tightened around Mae’lin’s
for a moment, as if in congratulations, before she stepped forward.
“Let me compete again. Send me against another. I won’t
even use fire!” Even the mention of the word made her finger
sting from the searing of the ring. “Mae’lin is fine,
right?” she asked as she turned to the lanky elf.

He was surprised, but immediately
turned and shouted towards the stands, “I am! It wasn’t
an assault at all! Just our competition getting out of hand.”
His future was assured, it seemed, and he was more than willing to go
to bat for her. “Give her another chance, she’s worth it
for any academy!”

Time seemed to slow so much, and the
elder human looked to the elven master. Words were exchanged, but not
through the magical amplification, and she could not make them out.

They debated, paused, the elvish master
and his entourage debating amongst themselves.

Mae’lin gripped her hand tightly,
and she could feel his own hope for her through that tight hold.

At last, a decision had been reached
and the loud voice boomed out to them. “Tomorrow morning, the
young girl shall face off against a more worthy contestant.”
Her heart skipped a beat with renewed hope.

He paused, and she swore she could see
a smile upon his face. “Bright and early, someone who can
handle her recklessness will give her the chance to prove herself…
again.”

The human wizard spoke up again, his
voice carrying over. “Who?”

The smug elven master delayed then
said, “She will display her powers alongside a senior student.”
Suddenly the chance seemed that much less hopeful.

“Tomorrow morning, then,”
she said with every ounce of confidence she could muster and didn’t
feel. She knew what teachers thought of troublemakers, and the only
reason she got as far as she did was because she kept her head down
and her eyes on her goals.

They would do everything they could to
humiliate her.

But she would be prepared.

Mae’lin had been ushered off to
meet with the academy who had taken him in, and truly he deserved it;
his display had been so very impressive. But then again, she deserved
it too. She wouldn’t let herself think otherwise.

She had walked off after that. She
needed food and rest for the coming trial. More than that, she needed
an edge.

She had her ring to amplify her spells,
but her repertoire was woefully low. There was little else she could
do but manipulate heat and flame, and whatever senior academy student
they put her against would be prepared for that.

That only left her with her familiar.
The demon’s gift.

Would that be enough?

She was reminded of how at that moment
of seeming defeat, the reassuring voice of Varuj had come to her
salvation. His suggestion of a strategy she would never have thought
of – for she had no idea she could’ve managed so
impressive a feat, even with the power of the ring! – had saved
her from failure then and there.

He had suggested she cry out for this
new chance when sorrow threatened to doom her to silence.

He was making her stronger. Both
magically and emotionally.

And she wasn’t sure how she felt
about that. Yet when she grabbed something to eat, she didn’t
go to rest like she knew she should.

Instead, she went into the dark of the
forest.

In the clearing, that special place
that was hers and hers alone until she’d introduced him to it,
she stood in the dark, waiting. His presence was felt before seen.

He put his hand upon her shoulder, and
turned her towards him so she could see his smiling face. Pride
written on it. “You did well, despite refusing more of my help
in preparing these past few days,” he said.

“I wanted to do this on my own.
Clearly they have better ideas. They want to humiliate me, and I want
to make them wish they’d never tried to.” Her voice was
stern and confident, and she was trying so desperately hard not to
get caught up in his touch.

“They’re pitting me against
one of their students, who has every advantage. I need something…
controllable and safe … Something that will make me a shoe
in.”

He pondered that, his glimmering ruby
eyes moving down as he mulled it over. “That won’t be
easy,” he said truthfully. “Certainly not in a night,”
he admitted, his strong hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. “I
would need more time to teach you a spell of that sort.” It was
as if he was running down a checklist of the impossible.

His hand slid down from her shoulder,
over her arm until he was holding her hand. The same hand that now
had a black ring about one finger from the searing heat of her spell
battle.

“I’m not going to just give
up. Please, just… give me something. Something that will make
them see me. Need me.”

Her large, blue eyes glistened but
tears wouldn’t fall. She wouldn’t let them. She needed
this too badly, needed her strength too much.

His warm hand soothingly rubbed hers as
he thought, then he lifted it up and inspected her burnt finger.
“Poor girl,” he murmured, and with a gentlemanly
delicacy, he kissed her hand softly, again, and again. Somehow the
warmth of his soft lips soothed the burnt flesh.

It was intoxicating. To watch that
beautiful man, his robe hung open, revealing a tantalizing display of
his hard, smooth flesh, on down to the edge of his groin with him
bent over to kiss her so. “I have an idea,” he murmured
softly.

“Tell me,” she pleaded as
she tried to keep her eyes trained on his face. The sight of his body
was just too distracting, and it made her forget who he really was.
What he really was.

He rose up, still holding her hand.
“First,” he said delicately, “I want you to promise
me you’ll forego your mastery over me. Treat me as an equal.
And command me no longer… only work with me,” his
almond-shaped eyes widened, and she read some hope there in them.
Hope she would relent and let him go.

“When did I last command you?”
she asked, her eyes narrowing a bit in scrutiny. She thought she’d
been treating him rather well, especially considering what he was.
She’d come to him for aid, hadn’t she? She could have
made him help, but instead she’d asked.

Even in her desperation.

“That is my condition,” he
said with a gentle finality, not quite letting her hand go, but
leaving their grasp tenuous. “It’s only a simple promise.
A few words and I will help you again to ensure you receive your just
assignment.” He made it sound so simple. And she was reminded
of that pang of emotion she had felt, his excitement for her at the
competition. His urge to see her victorious. It had felt too genuine
to be faked. Too close to her soul to be deceived, she thought.